


Victory Lights

by ValiantBarnes (Cimila)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Chuck is a Brat, Competitive Chuck Hansen, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, M/M, Multi, POV Alternating, Rivalry, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimila/pseuds/ValiantBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about christmas in America, in this part of America is, it snows. It snows in Australia as well, in certain places when it gets really cold. But chrissy is always in the middle of summer, so he’s never had the stereotypical Christmas with snow and jumpers and hot chocolate. He’d always wondered what it would be like, to experience that. And this year, he’s going to get it. The <i>perfect</i> white Christmas.</p><p>If only that wanker across the road would stop trying to one up his Christmas lights display.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory Lights

**Author's Note:**

> (Belated) Merry Christmas!! this was for the Pac Rim Holiday Gift Swap and I am late with it. Of course. But, even though it's a few days after Christmas, I hope you still enjoy it!! I tried to stick to your prompt, Bamfcoyotetango, but it kind of took on a life of its own. :)

Never let it be said that Herc Hansen wasn’t an inconsiderate bastard. Chuck’d been expecting him and mum back home at the start of November, when he finished his consulting gig with the U.S Air Force. Instead, he gets a skype call at the crack of dawn letting him know that he and mum have ‘found someone’ and that they’re not coming home just yet.

Maybe not ever, and definitely not by christmas.

To say Chuck was not pleased was the understatement of the century.

By the time he’d finished chucking - not a tantrum, it was a reasonable expression of anger - his dad had logged off skype, the coward. Luckily his mum called him back, otherwise Chuck might still be stomping around his Sydney house, annoying the shit out of his house mates, stewing in his anger.

Instead, he was stomping around the house his parents had bought - they fucking bought a house! ‘might be home in January’ his arse! - wondering when he was going to get to meet this ‘Stacker’ who’d snagged both his parents hearts, and trying to untangle the christmas lights he’d had shipped over ahead of him.

Back home, in his nice comfy house, which he’s fucking subletting, he was the god damned King of christmas decorations. He didn’t go over the top or anything, not like some of the weirdos who spent thousands on lights and blow up santas and all sorts of shit, he just had a solid set up. A couple of tastefully flashing reindeer, and sometimes he’d set up a santa chair, get in costume and let the little tykes of the street climb all over him and tell him what they want for chrissy.

He could’ve left the decorations at home, would’ve saved him a fuckton in shipping, but he’s not going to half ass his favourite holiday just because he now knows way too much about his parents sex life. And, sure, he didn’t have to temporarily move across the world to be with his parents for christmas, but Chuck’s a stubborn bastard, and he’s not going to let his parents spend christmas with some bastard and his probable demon spawn children just because they’re in love with him or some shit.

It’s not like he’s hear to break them up or anything, that’d be a shit thing to do, and Chuck knows that his mum’d figure him out in a hot second anyway. It’s not even that he really is as big a brat as his dad claims and doesn’t like to share the things he considers ‘his’, like friends, family, pets, that one particular chair in the corner of the coffee shop near his house. It’s not even that it’s christmas, his all time favourite holiday; the one day of the year he and his dad get along, no matter what.

It’s that he’s never met this bloke they’ve taken up with, doesn’t know him from a bar of soap, and everyone seems to just expect him to be alright with it. Lord knows Herc’s grilled every single date he’s ever had, but Chuck wanting to scope out the person who’d, technically, become his step-parent or whatever the fuck is unreasonable?

It could’ve been the middle of the year and he would’ve come over. Luckily, uni’s over for the year, and playing the ‘I’m coming over for christmas’ card just makes it easier. And that way he doesn’t have to admit that he’s, you know. Worried. Mainly about his mum, definitely not worried about his dad. Even though his mum’d take any split better than Herc. The man’s a god damned sap.

Thankfully, no ones said a thing about how he’s got enough stuff to stay for a couple of months, at least, and that if he was really coming for just Christmas, he would’ve arrived closer to the 25th, instead of on the second.

So, the Christmas lights. Integral to the ruse of just being in town to celebrate the holiday season, and also integral to Chucks christmas time. He’d checked out the lights which’d been put up on the street they’re living on, and they’re basic as fuck. The house right across the road has some pretty okay stuff, but it’s nothing like what Chuck’s got up his sleeve. It’s nice in comparison to the other places in their street, but Chuck’s not an amateur. 

By the time his mum gets home from work on the day of the fourth, Chuck’s got most of his lights up. She grins up at him, where he’s up the ladder, stringing the last of his roof reindeer, and calls out,

“What do the power points look like?” He scowls down at her, scowling even harder when she remains as unmoved as she has been by his fearsome scowl for the last twenty one years of his life.

“Weird as fuck American plugs are covered in adaptors. Damn lucky I thought ahead.” He grumbles, climbing down from the ladder, and she laughs at him - Angela usually does, though, so Chuck pays it no mind.

“They’ll look so good lit up.” She compliments, as she does every year. He’s been in charge of the christmas lights since he was fourteen and almost shouted the roof down on Herc when he put them up incorrectly, and his old man had shouted back, ‘do it your bloody self, then!’ So Chuck had. And, even though he’s moved out, with his own house, he stills goes back to his parents place every year to put their lights back up. Not like he’s gonna let his dad fuck it up, again.

He’s inside helping his mum with dinner when a completely shit realisation dawns on him. Something he hadn’t thought of in the few weeks it took him to organise the flights to the US, and find someone to sublet from him, quit his shit job at that fucking restaurant and pack the things he needs to live.

He’s just moved back in with his parents.

Fuck everything.

-

The lights, as Angela predicted, are fucking great.

Stacker Pentecost, and Chuck’s dubious based solely on his damn name, to be honest, is coming over for dinner. He’s got a flat closer to the Air Force base, which is where is parents have been disappearing to while Chuck’s been alternately stomping around the house and sleeping off his jet lag. Tonight’s the night when he’s finally getting introduced to the bloke who managed to steal the heart of both Hansens, a feat previously unknown.

Now, Chuck’s known way too much about his parents sex lives for years. Too many years. Enough years that he should be in fucking therapy, because walking in on a god damned orgy just because he skipped fourth period when he was twelve was a punishment that far outstripped the crime. The point was, he’s been aware that they don’t have a traditional monogamous relationship. They’ve both dated other people, while still being committed to each other. And sometimes they’ve dated the same people. Always, though, the relationships break down until it’s just Angela and Herc.

And Chuck.

No matter what Herc says, Chuck’s had nothing to do with his numerous failed relationships over the years. He doesn’t have to do anything, Herc fucks them up all on his own.

Except, somehow, Herc hasn’t fucked this up. Yet. He’s not fucked it up so much that it looks like his parents intend to stay in America, just to be with ‘Stacker.’ Chuck’s still not convinced it isn’t a fake name.

So, tonight’s the night.

All afternoon his parents have been trying to make sure everything’s going to run smoothly, and that the night’s perfect. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen either of them so worked up. They’re pretty laid back, usually - well, his mum is. Herc’s a nut case, but he generally hides it better. Herc’s run his hands through his hair so much that it looks like he’s gelled it up, and his mum’s hair was in a loose bun at lunch, but now half of it’s fallen around her face and neck. It’s getting closer and closer to seven, and neither of them seem to notice that, though the house is perfect, they’re both in trackies.

Chuck normally wouldn’t bat an eye at them lounging around in old clothes, and neither would they, but they’re both so nervous about the meeting he’s pretty sure they’re gonna flip once they realise they’ve forgotten about themselves. Chuck’s literally got a bag of caramel popcorn ready for when they notice. He’s imagining fireworks, and probably a lot of ‘I told you to go get changed an hour ago!’ ‘What about you! You’ve got flour smeared half up your damn face!’ ‘You haven’t even had a shower today!’

You’ve never seen someone fight over stupid shit, until you’ve seen Hansens fight over stupid shit. And his mum might only be a Hansen by marriage, but sometimes it seems like she tries extra hard to compensate.

Chuck doesn’t get to see that particular spat, however, because his mum realises that they’re out of tomato sauce, and Chuck has to go to the grocery store right now, no you can’t get changed, he’ll be here any minute, go, go, go.

He picks up his wallet, slips on his shoes and out the front door, grumbling about how he won’t be able to find any real tomato sauce anyway, surrounded by a country of fucking weird ketchup eaters, so why does it matter, when his words are stolen away.

In the deepening twilight, the house across the road has flicked on its lights.

On the roof, now, was a huge... thing of lights happily announcing ‘Merry Christmas’ and, around the edges of the roof, were adorable god damned, fucking snowmen. And on the previously bare lawn are reindeer. Adorable. Fucking. Reindeer.

Their goddamn lights look better.

Chuck storms to his dads car, backs out of the drive way, and completely forgets about the tomato sauce.

-

Chuck gets back home half an hour later, at twenty past seven, and there’s a car already parked in the driveway, so he has to haul the lights across the snowy lawn, dodging Donner and Blitzen, all the while trying not to slip over. Harder than it seems, considering he’d never walked across snow before three days ago.

When he gets inside, neither of his parents look impressed, and there’s a sharply dressed black man standing next to them. His parents managed to dress themselves properly at some point, so he definitely missed what would have been an hilarious realisation.

“Charles Hansen.” Chuck can’t help the way he freezes, half inside the front door; whenever his mum uses that tone, and his full first name, his flight or fight reflex doesn’t kick in, oh no. He turns into an opossum - maybe if he doesn’t move, she’ll find someone more deserving to turn her wrath on.

“Where the hell’ve you been?” Herc scowls at him, and Chuck finally shuffles inside, putting down the bags of lights and light-type decorations.

“I, uh, couldn’t find any tomato sauce so I just got ketchup.” He pulls the sauce bottle out of his jacket pocket, not wanting to chance the possibility of it opening in one of the bags and getting gross sauce all over his lights.

“What’s in all those bags?”

“Christmas lights.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Herc looks like he’s wondering whether he’s got cause for justifiable homicide, while his mother looks like she wants to grab his ear and make him sit down at the dinner table - which is already set, with food, and yeah Chuck feels a bit shit about it, but what else could he have done? Waited for tomorrow? ...Well, actually, yeah he probably could’ve. Should’ve.

Shit.

Still, in for a penny and all that.

“Did you see those wankers across the road?” He says, shedding his thick outer layer.

“They seemed fine with their basic ass lights until I showed them the fuck up with my reindeer. And now they’ve got reindeer. And snowmen! I don’t have snowmen! And that huge fucking ‘Merry Christmas’ bullshit sign! What the fuck!” And then, realising that he’s probably completely fucked up his parents attempt at a nice dinner, showing off a nice, normal son to their new partner, he decides to act like he cares about more in life than Christmas and winning. He cares about Max, too, after all. The little bastard’s already waiting by Chucks seat at the dinner table, ready for scraps.

“Hi, I’m Chuck.” He walks forward to shake Stackers hand, receives a firm grip in return, and a look of amusement.

“Stacker Pentecost. Nice to finally meet you.” And, huh. He wasn’t expecting an English accent. Awkward as it was to think about someone his parents were fucking, it was actually pretty fucking hot. No one can ever know. But, judging from the smirk on his dads face, and the delight (sadistic, parental delight) on his mothers, they both already know.

“Nice to meet you too.” He mumbles out, and his dad absolutely loses it. Laughs so hard he’s got to cling onto his boyfriend's arms. Nice arms, goddamn it. Chuck clearly needs to get laid if he’s noticing how fit his parents boyfriend is.

He should’ve just stayed in Sydney. He didn’t sit through a god damned seventeen hour flight for this shit.

-

Stacker stays the night, which is something Chuck wishes he didn’t know.

But he’s a decent guy, clearly military through and through, and seems to make both his parents sickeningly happy, so Chuck only smirks at him when the man comes down stairs at half past six looking for coffee. He looks a bit surprised to see Chuck already up and awake - and on his second cup.

“Jetlag?” He asks, looking more at home in the kitchen than Chuck feels, since he doesn’t have to search every damn cupboard for what he wants. It’s… nice, seeing him so at home in his parents house, kind of. Nice in that Chuck’s happy for his parents, or something. Max trots over to Stacker to get a pat, and Chuck turns his attention back to the lights in front of him.

“No. Just getting a headstart. Not gonna lose to those bastards.”

“Have you met your… competition?” The man clearly hesitates before he says it; maybe he’s already been warned about what a competitive fucking menace Chuck is. He doesn’t like to lose, and if he hadn’t already drawn the parallels, calling the other house competition would make everything into a competition for him. Fortunately, Chuck’s already in competition mode. No, he’s in winning mode. Because he’s not gonna get beaten by some Yanks who half assed their original damn decorations.

Not his fault if they felt inferior in the shadow of his reindeer, but it is their fault that he’s about to blow them out of the god damned water. 

“Nah, ‘ve barely left the house since I got here. Might go over tonight, after I flick on the lights.” He says, around the toast. It’ll be good to meet the neighbours, probably. But it’ll be even better to see their faces when they realise that Chuck’s upped the ante, and that his lights are fucking ace.

“You really are a terror, aren’t you.” Chuck looks up at that, grins like a shark around his toast.

“Yep.” Stacker looks amused and not like he’s about to head for the hills, which is good.

“What if they retaliate?” He asks, and Chuck shakes his head, finally finishes his toast.

“War.” He says, solemnly. There’s a second of silence, before Stacker’s chucking. He’s still chuckling as he grabs the three coffees he’d made and heads back into the bowels of the house, which is a bit weird. Wasn’t that funny.

-

That night, after flicking his lights on, he does exactly what he’d told Stacker he’d do. It’s only neighbourly, after all, to introduce yourself. He’s killing two birds with one stone, multitasking, whatever. The point is, he can’t wait for whoever opens the door to see his lights and realise that he’s won.

Unless it’s a kid and they cry or something. Then Chuck’ll feel like a jackass. He won’t take down his lights, but he’ll feel bad about it.

Thankfully, it isn’t a kid that opens the door, but a blond man. He’s easy on the eyes, and if he can get over Chuck winning, he might be the answer to Chuck's unfortunate dry spell that made him blush over his parents new partner. He’s wearing one of those hideous christmas jumpers that Chuck’s never had the chance to wear at Christmas, but has maybe always wanted to. To be honest, he’s pretty sure that if he was able to wear those ugly sweaters every year, he’d hate them. But since he can’t, he eyes the mans cheerful, christmas themed jumper with envy.

And then with appreciation, because the jumper’s stretched taught over the mans chest and arms, and then loose around his stomach, and it’s making Chuck think he’s probably fucking built under the ugly, lumpy, knitted monstrosity. 

All in all, if Chuck wasn’t here to crush his christmas hopes and dreams, he’d probably do something stupid. It’s a running theme of Chucks, putting his foot in his mouth around attractive people… and all people, actually. Along with his usual personality trait of jackass, Herc’s words, not his, Chuck is also pretty shit at talking to new people. And making friends. His best friend is his dog, if that tells you something. And looking into gorgeous blue eyes, Chuck would definitely do something stupid. Luckily, he has a goal to keep him focused.

“Uh, hi. I’m Chuck Hansen.” Chuck shoves his hand between him, almost hitting the blond in the chest, and straight away he’s pretty sure this is a bad idea. He’s gonna see it through, though, because stubborn is another one of his stunning personality traits, but he just wants everyone to know that this entire conversation would be easier if the blond wasn’t ridiculously attractive.

“Hi, I’m Raleigh Becket. What’s up, Chuck?” It’s at that point that, regardless of how nice the mans stupid accent is, and how attractive he is, that Chuck knows they’re not going to get along. ‘What’s up, Chuck?’ Really. Really.

“Thought I’d introduce myself. Just moved in across the road.” Chuck moves to the side so he can gesture at his parents place, and so that Raleigh can get a good look at the new, improved display. The man looks a bit shocked, like he’s never seen adorable light up elves before. Or lights in the shape and colour of gingerbread men, which look better close up, but are still pretty impressive from this distance, lining the windows as they are. Chuck can’t help the smirk that curls his lips, knows the second that Raleigh spots it, because his own eyes narrow in response.

“Nice lights.” He says, even sounds like he means it, for all he’s got a little furrow between his brows, and Chucks smirk transforms into an out and out grin. Not a particularly friendly grin, way too smug. 

“Thanks,” There’s a pause and Chuck knows he should just take the compliment and let it be the end of it. But, really, Chuck’s not known for his restraint, and he can still hear Raleigh saying ‘what’s up, Chuck?’, and that decides it.

“Rahleigh.” 

“Have a good night.” Chuck says, backing away from the open door, still grinning like a jackass. Raleigh looks like he’s not sure if Chuck’s being an asshole, or if it’s just his accent twisting the name unintentionally, so he doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“You too, Chuck.” He moves out of the doorway, and the door starts to shut. And, now, Chuck knows he’s an asshole but, well, but nothing. Chuck knows he’s an asshole, knows he’s being an asshole, but he does it anyway. At least this way, Raleigh will know he’s an asshole, too.

“See ya round, Raaahleigh.” The door slams shut, and Chuck’s pretty sure the American can hear his loud, obnoxious laughter through the open window.

So it might be his fault, just a little bit when, the next night, the lights flick on and Raleigh Fucking Beckets house lights up like a Christmas fucking extravaganza.

Chuck’s still looking out the window, face looking like he’s sucking on a lemon, when there’s a knock on the front door, and his dad calls out that he’s got a visitor.

Raleigh. Of fucking course. He looks absolutely delighted.

“Chuck! Your dad’s nice.” From the look in Raleigh's eyes, Chuck knows exactly what Raleigh means, and what he means is, ‘you still live with your parents.’

“Rahleigh.” He doesn’t really have more to say, cause he’s still in shock that the smug fucker standing in front of him put up more fucking lights. And there’s a fucking Santa on the damn roof, next to the Merry Christmas. Sitting on the apex of the roof, fucking ‘ho, ho, ho’ written on present boxes next to him. It was lit up like, well, Christmas and it was adorable.

Fuck.

“I just came over to say that I really appreciate you lights. I love what you’ve tried to do. And I was wondering, my little sister wants to decorate her dorm building this year, and I thought that a lot of your things would work really well for her, especially those reindeer, so I was wondering where you got them.” He looks like apple pie and sunshine, but Chuck knows - Raleigh Beckett is as much of an asshole as Chuck is. Well, Chuck doesn’t know that for sure, the man’s still a dick.

How dare he insult Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen and Rudolph. Those reindeer are the cutest fucking things you’ll ever see, and this wanker’s just insulted them.

Does he even know how much it cost to ship their heavy reindeer asses from Australia? Too fucking much. He probably should’ve left them at home, except they really are fucking adorable, and they’re way too good for some shitty uni dorm.

“Oh, shit, Rahleigh, I thought your decos were hand-me-ups from your sister's dorm. But, I mean, it’d make sense that, if she wanted to decorate in a nice, aesthetically pleasing way, she’d prefer advice from me over you.” He’s still smiling like Chuck just complimented his lights, but his jaw’s a bit tight, so Chuck counts it as a win.

“So, you don’t know which second hand store you bought them from?” 

Oh, it’s fucking on, now. He’s gonna grind Raleigh into the damn dust. Snow. Whatever.

“Got them back home, Rahleigh.” He answers, anyway, because he’s too busy thinking of how to make his display bigger and better to worry about another petty verbal jab that means nothing in the grand scheme of this war.

“Well, thanks anyway. See you around, Charlie.” That blond shit is lucky he’s already half way down the path or else Chuck’d show him exactly what he fucking thinks of that.

“See you tomorrow, Rahleigh.” Chuck threatens, watching Raleigh walk away until the other man closes his own front door behind him.

-

The next step, not in christmas light warfare, unfortunately, but in getting to know his parents new partner, is to meet Stackers daughter. Mako’s actually pretty easy to get along with, which is good, because no one who’s ever met Chuck has any delusions about his social skills.

“My father tells me that you are currently engaged in hostile christmas warfare, Chuck.” She sounds very amused, and Herc rolls his eyes.

“Chuck’s a bit competitive. And when I say a bit, I mean the only thing he’s lost since he was about ten was the under sixteens league grand final. And he’s still bitter about it.” Chuck shut his mouth, making a conscious decision to prove his dad wrong by not talking about how they were robbed by that rubbish call from the umpire in the last few minutes of the game. Even though they were.

“And,” his mum pipes up, looking ridiculously amused, “He’s fighting against Raleigh Becket.” Mako raises one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“Raleigh?” She asks, and Stacker, Angela and Herc all nod, while Mako smiles. Chuck suddenly has the feeling that he’s missing something. 

“Yeah, Raleigh. Why?” He’s suspicious of all of them, but none of them cave under his assessing stare, so he goes back to his lunch. And Mako seems perfectly willing to be roped into helping him put up more lights after she finishes work that day, so Chuck lets it slide.  
Mako has a hell of an eye, and with her help, his lights are looking better than ever. He can’t wait to see Raleighs stupid face. 

-

The worst part is, Chuck thinks as he shuts his own front door behind him, Raleigh didn’t even look upset by the continued display of Chucks superior light decorating skills.

Can you really savour a victory if your opponent isn’t even upset that he’s lost?

And that’s when it dawns on Chuck that Raleigh’s not going to give in, not any time soon. He’d have looked defeated if he was conceding defeat, but he hadn’t so, clearly - the battle might be won, but the war was far from over.

-

Unfortunately, he can’t spend all his time working on christmas decorations. He hasn’t been able to take Max for a walk since they arrived in America, the snow too deep for a dog so used to the heat, so Chuck’s been thinking of ways to get around it. He’s already bought a little jumper for Max, and a beanie, and has been contemplating if the shoes he bought the dog would be enough, when he finally gets an idea.

If the snow is the problem, then get rid of the snow.

He already spends his morning cleaning snow from the driveway, so why not expand that a little, and make a path for Max to walk on?

It’s a great idea, and even though it means he has to spend more time outside in the damn cold, it means he’s able to keep an eye on Raleigh Becket and the additions he’s making to his lights. He’s roped in two other men, one who’s clearly related to him, and they’re adding more lights to the front porch.

Eventually he gets too far away to spy on them without it being really obvious, so he just keep shovelling a path for Max to walk on.

An hour later, he’s got a pretty good route, so he goes back to the house and gets Max ready for his first walk.

It’s a success, and Max fucking loves exploring, so Chuck decides he’s going to walk Max every day. Even if it means he’s got to clear a new path every day, because snow is apparently the bane of his damn existence.

-  
-

 

See, the thing is, Raleigh couldn’t care less about the christmas lights.

Yancy is the one who puts their lights up every year. Usually, he also doesn’t care overly much about their lights. But this year, he, Tendo and Allison put the lights up together - it’s their first christmas since they all moved in together as a couple, and apparently that makes it special. Special enough that, when Herc and Angelas kid put up better lights, Yancy decided the three of them couldn’t be shown up in their first joint christmas effort.

Tendo reminded Yancy of their shared college dorm room, and about how he’s helped Yancy put up christmas lights for the past half decade, but Yancy refused all logic.

And Raleigh, predictably, got roped into putting up Christmas lights after he got home from work on Friday. It was fun, though, especially since both he and Tendo got to tease Yancy about being shown up by a kid, while Allison came out periodically to pelt them with snow balls and tell Yancy he was being ridiculous. Herc and Angelas kid, at that. Herc’d told them that his kid was a massive brat, but Raleigh’s sure he couldn’t be that bad. Especially since he’d come all the way over from Australia just to spend christmas with his parents, and had brought light up reindeer with him. 

And then Chuck Hansen knocked on their door, and Raleigh had throw out all preconceived notions real quick.

Regardless of the way Herc and Angela speak about their son, he’s not a kid. He’s so far from the gangly, awkward kid Raleigh had been imagining, that when he opens the door, there’s not a single part of him that thinks the hot ginger standing in front of him could be Chuck. Raleigh feels a little bit bad about the attraction he feels for the son of a friend, but mainly he wants to know what’s hidden under all the layers that Chuck’s wearing. Honestly, he looks to be wearing about four different layers, and it’s barely cold enough for it to snow. The only reason Raleigh’s wearing a jumper is because Allison made it for him, and everyone else is wearing their Allison Choi jumpers tonight, too.

When Raleigh realises that Chuck’s on their front porch to gloat about how he’s put up more lights and, once again, his lights are the best, Raleigh knows he should’ve gotten Yancy, so the two of them could properly duke it out. Instead, Raleigh compliments his lights display, and then gets his name absolutely mangled. The first time it was, maybe, an accident. Or maybe it was the kids thick Australian accent. The second time, though, that was on purpose.

Chuck was intentionally baiting him.

Herc was right, Chuck is a massive brat.

But the thing is, he’s a massive brat Raleigh would like to get to know better. So he goes over the next night, and baits the kid right back. He should’ve tried to have a normal conversation with Chuck but, with the lights new lights Yancy’d made them put up twinkling merrily behind him, it’d seemed like more fun to ruffle the younger mans feathers. And ruffle he did.

Yet, if he’d tried to have a normal conversation, perhaps he wouldn’t currently be arguing in the middle of a shopping aisle over the last inflatable god damned santa claus in the store.

“I had it first, you wanker.” Chuck growled, hand wrapped tight around the box, refusing to let go, or admit that they both knew Raleigh’d had it almost inside his shopping cart before Chuck’d grabbed it. He really is a brat. Raleigh shouldn’t find it as attractive as he does.

“I’m the one who took it off the shelf.” Raleigh should just let the box go. He doesn’t even really like the blow up decorations, thinks they’re a bit tacky, a bit creepy. Except that’d mean Chuck would get the santa, and it’s too early in the morning to deal with that kind of smugness. Only, Raleigh has other things to do today, and has work in a couple of hours, so he can’t actually spend all day fighting with Chuck over a damn decoration.

“Look, kid,” Chuck scowled at being called a kid, which was exactly the reaction Raleigh had hoped for, “I can’t stand here all day telling you why you’re wrong, much as I’d like to. I have things to do.”

“So let go.” Chuck said, smirking, and Raleigh smirked right back.

“Not a chance. Looks like you’re coming shopping with me, kid.” Chuck’s got enough bulk to him that he could’ve made it hard for Raleigh to continue down the aisle, but for some reason he just let himself be dragged along via the grip he had on the box.

Raleigh had half expected Chuck to dig his heels in and cause a scene, perhaps try and trick Raleigh into letting go of the box. Instead he just jogs forward a few steps, and balances the box on the side of the trolley so they don’t have to bear its weight while shopping. And then it’s weirdly normal. Due to the box and trolley, Raleigh can’t reach one side of the aisle, and Chuck can’t reach the other, so they have to cooperate so they can get everything on their respective shopping lists.

It all goes into Raleighs trolley, because Chuck didn’t have time to grab a basket before he’d seen Raleigh reaching for the santa box, and had sprinted through the store to stop him. To be perfectly honest, Chuck would’ve done the same no matter what last item Raleigh was grabbing, just to spite him. It could’ve been anything from ketchup to chips, and Chuck would’ve made a nuisance of himself.

“So,” Raleigh says, after the silence between them has stretched on for too long, “how are you liking America?”

“It’s cold as fuck, and the snow stops me from walking my dog.” Which isn’t strictly true. Raleigh’s seen Chuck shovel a path for his dog to walk, twice now. He does his driveway, then a small loop of their street, with a special pit stop at Raleighs house so that Max can scent mark their letter box. Honestly, it’s fucking adorable, the way Chuck smirks up at the house while Max cocks his little leg. But he pretends to frown at them when he sees them, just because it makes Chuck’s smirk turn into a full blown grin.

Allison maybe have caught him yesterday, and all three of them have been teasing him about it non stop. At least they haven’t figured out his weird crush on Chuck, yet. All he’s been subject to is repeated yells of ‘get off my lawn, you whippersnappers!’ and ‘back in my day…’ All it does is remind Raleigh that Chuck’s over half a decade younger than him, and he should really be trying to find someone more age appropriate to stare at.

Instead, he’s shopping with a twenty one year old and trying to think of a way to ask him out without sounding weird.

“I’ve seen the pair out you out and about a few times. What’s his name?”

“Max. You got any pets?”

“Only a brother.” That surprises a laugh out of the younger man, which is devastating to any of Raleigh's plans to not date Chuck. It’s a gorgeous laugh, loud and unselfconscious.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around. You guys live in a share house, or something?”

“Nah, it’s just me and Yancy, and Allison and Tendo, who are Yancys partners.”

“Yeah? Grab some tinned pineapple, mate. Sliced.” He’s not sure if Chuck’s actually interested, but figures the man’s not the type to worry about social pleasantries, so continues talking while he grabs the pineapple.

“He was best friends with Tendo in college, shared a dorm, and didn’t even care when Tendo and Allison would sexile him. He was best man at their wedding. And then after their honeymoon they come back, sit Yan down and ask if he wants to date them.”

“He said yes, obviously.”

“He couldn’t’ve agreed faster if he tried. White bread, please.” Chuck nods, and throws the bread into the cart.

“Hey, don’t damage my bread.”

“It’s just bread, mate.”

“Yes, and I’d like for it to not have a dent in it.” The younger man rolls his eyes, but awkwardly reaches around the santa box and grabs the bread, putting it back on the shelf before getting a new loaf. He passes this one to Raleigh, so he can put it in the trolley gently.

“You’re a weird one, Rahleigh.”

“Says the man who puts his dog in a beanie with reindeer antlers.”

“Excuse you, Max looks cute as fuck.”

They make it all the way to the personal hygiene aisle without further incident, and then Raleigh sees a golden opportunity. If he can’t find a way to turn asking for condoms into asking for a date, then his entire college experience will have been for nothing.

“Can you grab me a pack of skyn large, Chuck.” The man turns automatically to the shelf to find what Raleigh asked for and then stops. He grabs the correct box after a second and throws them in, but keeps his face turned towards the shelves.

“What’re you looking at?” Raleigh asks, and Chuck mumbles out a ‘nothing.’

“Come on, then, we’re almost done.” And then, wonder of all wonders, Chuck turns away from the wall of condoms, and his face is bright red.

Chuck is blushing, over condoms.

“You’re blushing.” Raleigh points out, and Chuck scowls.

“Fuck off.”

-

In the end, it came down to a game of paper, scissors, rock while they waited in line for a cash register.

Chuck’s still cursing the air blue when they part ways.

-

“If it were summer, you’d be doing this with your shirt off, wouldn’t you.” It’s not even a question, and Raleigh knows he’s been caught. Allison’s helping him inflate the santa, while Yancy and Tendo set up elves. She flicks her eyes over to where Chuck’s clearly visible through the windows of his house, dog in his lap, glaring at Raleigh and the inflatable santa.

“Yup.” As it is, he’s only got a shirt and a pair of jeans on. Figured that since Chuck was going to stare at him, he might as well have something good to look at. Besides, after the cold of Alaska, he probably could be shirtless right now without too much of a worry. He just hadn’t wanted to hand his family any more ammunition to tease him with, but Allison found out anyway.

“Just ask him out.” She advises, right as Yancy decides to tune in to their conversation.

 

“Ask who out?” Allison gestures to Chuck, across the road, and Yancy grins.

“Aha! I knew there was a reason you’ve been so willing to help put up all these lights and decorations.” He crows, which turns into a shriek, as Tendo uses the opportunity to shove snow down his back. It quickly turns into a snow fight, since they’ve all pretty much finished with the new decorations. A quick look across the road shows that Chuck isn’t scowling anymore, he looks intrigued, and it dawns on Raleigh that Chuck’s never had a white christmas before, he’s never seen snow before he arrived.

He’s never been hit in the face by a handful of snow, and that’s something Raleigh’s about to fix.

“You can’t escape!” Tendo calls at his back, but doesn’t follow him, too busy being ganged up on by Yancy and Allison. Chuck opens the door before Raleigh even gets to it, leaning against the door frame, Max waiting obediently at his feet.

“Rah-” Is as far as he gets, because Raleigh hit him in the chest with a snow ball. The shocked look on his face is pretty funny.

“What the fuck!” The ginger shouts, disappearing from the doorway. Raleigh has a brief second to be disappointed, before Chuck’s back in sight, pulling on boots. He pushes Max inside, shuts the door, and then he’s running at Raleigh, bending over to scoop a handful of snow as he goes, and Raleigh starts running.

He gets hit in the shoulder, and can’t help the way he turns around to taunt Chuck.

“My grandma throws better than that, Hansen!”

“It’s on, Becket!” The younger man shouts back, still chasing him. And then Raleigh gets a snowball to the back of the head, and realises he’s made a huge miscalculation.

Half an hour later, Raleigh’s been thoroughly ganged up on, and they’re all soaking wet from the snow melting in their clothes. Chuck’s got the worst of it though, and he’s almost blue.

“Yan makes some killer hot chocolate.” He offers, and Chuck glares at him for a few moments, teeth chattering, before he follows Raleigh inside.

-

Chuck and Allison get on like a house on fire, and Raleigh barely notices the time slip by, too caught up in having fun and talking. He’s a bit surprised, then, when Yancy announces it’s time to turn on the lights. Chucks eyes immediately zone in on Raleigh, who smirks back.

“Yeah, I’ve got to turn mine on, too.” He says, saying goodbye to them all as he walks to the front door to put his boots back on.

“I’ll walk you back.” Raleigh completely ignores the way Tendo wiggles his eyebrows, instead concentrates on putting his shoes back on. He’s surprised Chuck doesn’t complain, and even waits for him to get his shoes on before throwing a final goodbye to the group and stepping out into the deepening twilight.

“Your family’s nice.” Chuck says, already shivering, a step and a half away from Raleighs front door. Raleigh’d thought ahead and had grabbed a jumped from the back of the lounge, and passes it over. Chuck glares at him, but pulls it on, anyway. Their houses are only meters apart, but Chuck clearly isn’t made for the cold. The jumper fits him alright, and Raleigh struggles not to laugh as he looks at the jumper. At the start of every christmas season, Jaz sends him the ugliest jumper she can find.

Chuck’s currently wearing her latest gift. The main design is a pretty ordinary looking cat, sitting on top of a bunch of holly. It’s got a bow with some real bells on it, but that’s not the bad part of the jumper. It’s covered in silver white tinsel pom-poms and tacky red bows. It’s one of the tackiest things she’s ever found, and Raleigh has a huge urge to take a picture. If he did that, though, Chuck would look down and realise the monstrosity that he’s wearing.

“Yeah. My younger sister’ll be here soon, back from college. You’ll like her. Probably.”

“Don’t try to set me up with your sister.” Chuck warns, and Raleigh can’t help but laugh because god no.

“Trust me Chuck, I do not want you to date my sister.”

“Oi, I’d be a great boyfriend.” The ginger defends, and Raleigh nods as they walk up to Chucks front door.

“Sure. Of course. You’d be a great date.” Raleigh scoffs, and Chuck, predictably, puffs up. He’s about to tell Chuck he’s just joking when the younger man does something completely unexpected.

“I’m a great fucking date, and I’ll prove it.”

“What? Chuck -”

“No, shut up. Half past seven tomorrow night.” Chuck’s scowling at him still, and Raleigh has no idea what’s happening.

“Unless it’s you who’s a bad date.” Chuck taunts, and Raleigh frowns back.

“Fine.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up.” 

“Bring it, kid.” Chuck goes to open his front door, when Raleigh calls out, having back up a few steps.

“Oh, and I was wondering,” he spreads his arms out, and proves that his older brother really does know him too well, because at that exact moment he flicks their christmas lights on.

“How’d you like the lights?” 

His answer is a growl and a slammed door, and Raleigh laughs all the way home.

-

Raleigh starts getting ready at quarter past six, much to the confusion of his family.

“What are you doing?” Tendo asks, looking up from his work.

“Chuck challenged me to a date, and I’m not going to let him win.” There’s a moment of silence, and then,

“What?”

“Bro, that makes no sense.”

“No, see, I joked that he’d be a terrible boyfriend, and he got offended and said he’d prove he wasn’t. Then he said that I was probably a terrible date, so he’s picking me up at half past seven so we can prove who’s a better date.” Allison’s the first to start laughing, but the other two follow suit pretty soon.

“You’re both idiots.” She tells him when he gets out of the shower, and he shrugs, because he knows it’s stupid as fuck, but he’s still got a date with Chuck, so he doesn’t care.

Because no one would be stupid enough to challenge a person to a date, if they didn’t want to actually date them, right?

Right.

Hopefully.

 

-  
-

 

Chuck has no idea what he’s fucking doing. He challenged Raleigh to a date, sure, but the older man accepted? Who the fuck accepts a date challenge? 

He’s pretty sure his dad’s still laughing, and he’s known since last night when Chuck had slammed the front door, stormed into the kitchen where Stacker was making dinner for his parents and Mako, and angrily asked for nice local restaurants he could take Raleigh on a date to.

And then he’d had to explain why he seemed so angry about taking Raleigh out on a date, and Herc hasn’t stopped laughing since. Wanker.

But a date’s a date, and a challenge is a challenge, so Chuck’s going to date the fuck out of Raleigh Becket. And, maybe, after he shows Raleigh that he’s the better date, the blond might want to, you know. Date him.

Fuck, Chuck is in way over his head. He takes it back, it’s all his fault.

Who the fuck challenges someone to a date?

More importantly why would Chuck, who’s never had a successful first date in his damn life, challenge Raleigh fucking Becket to a date? Because hearing Raleigh say that he’d be a terrible boyfriend had actually fucking hurt, that why. Even though they’re barely even friends, barely even know each other, he’d still overreacted and now it was seven twenty five and he had to get his shit together and pick Raleigh up.

Because regardless of how shit his other first dates have been, he’s going to fucking own this one, because it’s Raleigh Fucking Becket, and because it’s a challenge. He’s not going to lose to the older man twice. Oh no.

At seven twenty eight, Chuck flicks on his lights, and heads on over. Seeing his lights gives him a confidence boost because, once again, they’re they best in the street. He’d spent the day recreating the Santa chair he had back in Sydney, but he’d made it better than ever. Lights wound around the legs and arms like vines, and it was fucking surrounded by cheery as fuck elves and presents and giant fucking candy canes. It looked like Santas fucking village in his front yard.

At seven thirty exactly, he knocks on Raleigh's front door. The door handle turns, but the door doesn’t open. Instead the entire door rattles and, through it, Chuck hears, 

“Fuck off, Yan, let me open the door.”

“Ooooh, antsy about your big date, Rals?” Yancy coos at his younger brother. Then there’s a large thud, like someone just got body checked against a wall. The door opens a moment later, and Raleigh’s standing there. This was a bad idea, Chuck acknowledges, because Raleigh looks fucking great. His cheeks are a bit flushed from the tussle with Yancy, his shirt fits right and the way his jeans cling to his thighs make Chuck a bit afraid of Raleigh ever turning around.

He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, after all, but Raleigh looks so good it’s practically guaranteed to happen.

Shit.

“Hey Chuck.”

“Rahleigh. Ready to go?” Raleigh nods, and closes the door behind him, cutting of whatever Yancy was starting to say.

“Yup. Lead on.” He’s grinning, and there’s a part of Chuck that want to rise to the challenge obvious in that stupid smile, but there’s a larger part that’s telling him not to fuck it up. There’s a split second where Chuck almost, almost, listens to the part that’s begging him not to be his usual, abrasive, asshole self, that’s how much he doesn’t want to fuck up his date with Raleigh. He’s not going to change himself for anyone, though, no matter how gorgeous, so instead he offers his arm to Raleigh with a smirk.

“Nice lights.” Chuck says, clearly eyeing up the now sub-par lights adorning Raleighs house and front yard, while the blond rests his hand in the crook of Chuck’s offered elbow.

“Thanks. I beat out this kid to get that giant, blow up Santa.”

“Beating up kids now? New low, Becket.” Chuck says as he leads the other man across the street to where the car’s parked. When they get close enough, he unlocks the car, and opens the passenger side door for him.

“Nice touch.” He compliments, sliding into the seat, and Chuck can’t help his grin as he shuts the door. If the rest of Stackers tips work out as well, he’s gonna have to buy the man the best christmas present of his damn life.

“So, where are we going?” Raleigh asks as soon as Chuck’s in the car, and the younger man sakes his head.

“Can’t ruin the surprise, snookums.” He hears Raleigh choke on air, and grins.

“Snookums?”

“You don’t like it? What about pookie? Honey bun?” 

“I feel like I’m more of a cuddle-pie, chouchou.” Chuck takes his eyes of the road for a moment to look at Raleigh, because what.

“Was that French?”

“Oui. My mother was French. I’m fluent.”

“I failed year eight French.” Chuck tells him, shaking his head. He’d ditched the class half way through the year, sat in on the Cantonese language class instead.

“Wow, that must’ve been hard on you. How did you ever recover.” Raleigh deadpans, and Chuck rolls his eyes. 

“Beating the shit out of France in rugby usually helps.”

“Didn’t you guys lose last year?”

“Shut the fuck up, cuddle-pie.” Raleigh’s laugh might be a little bit contagious, and soon enough Chuck’s laughing too.

Chuck parks them a bit away from the restaurant, for multiple reasons First, there was a park. Second, the walk will be nice and will give him a prime opportunity for hand holding. Third, Raleigh won’t know which of the restaurants they’re heading towards until Chuck suddenly pulls him inside of one. And once they're inside, Chuck can finally shed his layers before he gets nervous enough to start sweating.

He locks the car, but before he can look around and grab for Raleigh's hand, the sneaky son of a bitch has slid his hand next to Chucks and tangled their fingers together. Point to Raleigh. Damn.

“Do I get to know where we’re going yet?” He asks, leaning closer to Chuck to be heard clearly, and his warm breath against Chucks cold ear makes him shiver.

“Nope. I’m pretty confident you’re gonna like it, though.” They walk down the street in a companionable silence, until they get to what, Mako assured him, was the nicest French restaurant in their area. He’s got to time it right, so he waits until they’re almost past the door to suddenly pull Raleigh inside.

“Surprise.” He grins, and Raleigh laughs.

-

“So, how do we know who’s the better date. Obviously we’re both going to say ourselves.” They’re in a small tea shop, legs tangled together under the small table, and Chuck’s pretty sure that they’re evenly matched. Somehow, Chuck managed to get through the whole date without putting his foot in his mouth, or acting so much like an asshole that Raleigh got pissed off at him. Hopefully that’s because he already knows what Chucks like, and not because he has so little interest in Chuck romantically that he just doesn’t care.

Chuck’s pretty sure it’s not the last one, since they’d eaten most of dinner whilst holding hands, even though it was a pain in the arse. He might be all about winning, but there’s no way both of them would have put up with that annoyance just for a challenge without any stakes. 

“We could assign points. Break down what we think we did that deserves a point, debate it if the other person doesn’t agree. Person with the most points wins.” Raleigh thinks for a moment, sipping his green tea, before nodding.

“Seems reasonable. Should we start now, or wait til tomorrow. I mean, technically, we’re still on a date.” Chuck’s very aware of that, and of how they’ve been touching almost constantly for almost two hours. 

“Do it now, tally up to this point, and then keep a running tally until I drop you off at your door.” That way he can stay here, tangled with Raleigh, for a little bit longer.

“Oh, you’re going to walk me to my door?” Raleigh laughs, and Chuck nods.

“I’m a fucking gentleman, mate.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I win.” Chuck scoffs, shaking his head.

“Please, first three points are to me.”

“Alright, why?”

“I was exactly on time, offered you my arm, and opened the car door.” Raleigh ‘hmm’s for a moment, before nodding.

“Agreed. Two to me. I held your hand and pulled your seat out. Oh, and I ordered the wine. In French, with the French waiter.”

“I think that last one just makes you a pretentious douche.”

“Only if the waiter didn’t speak French.” Chuck frowns for a second, drinking his tea as he thinks. Finally he concedes, grudgingly.

“Fine. Three and a half.”

“We’re working in halves now?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“Nope, just clarifying.”

“I actually listened when you talked?” Chuck tries, and Raleigh laughs.

“So did I, so we both get a point.” Damn.

“We both went to hold hands across the table, so that’s another dual point.” Raleigh continues, and Chuck thinks for a second.

“I initiated footsie.”

“I have a bruise on my shin from where you kicked me, you mean.” Chuck can’t help but blush, because he still feels a bit embarrassed about it. He hadn’t realised Raleigh's leg was as close to his as it was, and his foot had connected solidly with the blonds shin.

“You’re lucky I don’t deduct points for bodily injury.” Raleigh jokes, and Chuck rolls his eyes.

“No deductions. Half point for effort.”

They both spend a few minutes drinking their tea in silence, and then Raleigh grins, and Chuck knows exactly what that smug bastard’s thinking of.

“I paid the bill.” After they’d ordered dessert, Chuck had excused himself to the bathroom. He hadn’t even thought of the cheque, and yet when he’d arrived back, their waiter was leaving the table with the tasteful black folder ubiquitous to all restaurants that signified the bill. Raleigh had looked so smug when Chuck had sat back down that it’d been a struggle not to throw water into his face. Or kiss him. Chuck did neither.

“I think you being a smug prick about it kind of cancels it out.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it.” Which, yeah, but he wasn’t going to cop to that.

“And I suggested getting tea. Which, by my count, makes it five and a half to three and a half.” Chuck finishes his tea, and leans back in his chair. If he’s been reading things wrong, he’s about to fuck everything up.

“I’m gonna walk you to your door.”

“I thought we’d planned on a running tally?” Raleigh asks, amused, and Chuck shrugs.

“Figured we might as well get the rest of it out the way now.” Raleigh cocks an eyebrow, before deciding to go along with it.

“Alright. Why? But also, that still puts you a point behind.”

“Because I figure it might be a bit hard for you to count after I blow you.” There’s a moment where Raleigh doesn’t quite get it, and then pink starts to spread along the bridge of his nose, and the top of his cheeks.

“What if I don’t do more than hand hold on the first date?” Raleigh asks, and Chuck grins.

“Then I guess we’ll have to have a second date.”

“I don’t actually care about christmas lights.” What? That makes no sense.

“What?”

“It’s all Yancy. I’ve been helping him because I like the way you look when you’re annoyed. And I like how you come over every second night to taunt me. And how you still haven’t given me my jumper back, and even though you’re as big a brat as Herc always said.”

“First of all, that’s a god awful jumper and you should be glad I’m keeping it. Second, I can’t believe you insulted my reindeer when you don’t even care. Third, you must like the way I look all the damn time.”

“I do. Like the way you look all the time.”

“Oh. Good.” There’s silence for a second, before a few things click together in Chucks head.

“This is why everyone’s been so amused that it’s you I’m fighting with over the lights display.”

“Yep.”

“Date me.” Raleigh blinks, like he’s been blind sided but, really, Chuck’s already offered to blow him, it really shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“I- Yes. Of course. Also, I am completely willing to turn traitor to Yancy’s cause.” Raleigh tells him, completely serious, and Chuck can’t help the grin that works its way onto his face. It’s not cheating, it’s taking advantage of all your assets. And Raleigh is, officially, his ass. et. Heh.

“Ready to head home?” Chuck asks, and Raleigh nods, tea cup now empty.

“Yeah. Also,” He says, grabbing Chucks hand as they head out of the shop, “I was lying before. I totally put out on the first date.” Chuck knows he’s the one blushing now, but it doesn’t stop his grin.

 

The next day, Chuck’s infinitely smug when he advises his dad to get the interior of his car cleaned. Serves the old man right for going around telling people he’s a brat.

 

It takes Yancy three days to realise that Raleigh’s acting as a mole to further Chucks lights campaign, and his outrage can be heard up and down the street. Chuck laughs for about an hour, sitting in his Santa chair and relishing in his victory. It feels good to win.

**Author's Note:**

> the ugly jumper, btw, is here http://www.tipsyelves.com/ugly-tacky-cat-christmas-sweater


End file.
